


Alone

by Bearslayer



Series: The Gotham Prompts [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, Hallucinations, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 06:25:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10916163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearslayer/pseuds/Bearslayer
Summary: Edward releases his frustration after being serenaded.





	Alone

**Author's Note:**

> This series will contain many of the prompts I fill on my tumblr. I hope you all enjoy.
> 
> Based on the prompt, "Take off your shirt."

“... And I wake up, alone...” Oswald sang, his voice a sultry croon that pierced Edward's every nerve.

“ _Enough_! I admit, that killing you killed a part of me, but I will find a way forward no matter the cost! I _will_ be born anew! And I will leave you behind!” Edward snapped. His mind was a frenzy of conflicting thoughts shooting rapid fire through his brain, pounding into his temples.

“Penguin saw you, Ed, he was the only one! _He_ made you!” His hallucination insisted, watching him pace the opposite side of the table.

Nygma paused and stared across at the vision. In the sudden silence Ed could hear the perpetual dripping of fetid river water that never actually hit the floor. This manifestation of Oswald was vicious, contradictory, and he couldn't handle that, not with what he had just witnessed. His thoughts shifted once more to how beautiful the hallucination of his dead friend had looked bathed in bright red light, how perfectly that suit had hugged his broad shoulders. Edward closed his eyes, fingernails digging crescents into his palms as he fought to keep steady.

“Take off your shirt.” Edward growled, voice full of gravel and lust.

“Excuse me?” Oswald returned. Even as he said this, though, he was on the table, crawling across to close the gap between them when Ed opened his eyes.

No longer did he wear the gruesome suit that had become his death shroud. Instead, he was clad in the green plaid pajamas that he wore back before all of this, when Edward had nursed him back to health after finding him near death in the forest. The time they had first sang with one another. Nygma drew in a deep breath as the vision slid closer, sitting on splayed knees to his front.

“You heard me. Take off your shirt.” Edward repeated.

With a self-assured little smirk, Oswald's deep green eyes lowered, ghostly fingers flicking off each button of the oversized shirt. Leaning back once each button was undone, the fabric slid back but not off, leaving the man's chest bare. The lump in Ed's throat tripled in size at the sight. There, dead center in his torso, was an open wound. Clean, but bleeding out in tiny, steady crimson rivulets that moved along the curve of his body, disappearing at the backs of his hips.

“Why... why is that there?” Edward choked out, taking a step back as Oswald shifted, legs hanging off the edge of the table.

“Because this is as much a part of him as anything else, Edward... This is the part of you that died. But doesn't it look beautiful against his pale skin?” The hallucination traced a line down its chest, following the never-ending stream that poured from the hole to his hip.

Edward followed the trail of his fingertips as they dipped beneath the hem of his waistband, taking hold of himself. His eyes darted back to Oswald's face, and his breath hitched. His head was thrown back as he stroked himself beneath the pajama bottoms, jaw slack and eyes closed. The sight was almost too much for Edward, whose own cock strained in his pants, desperate to be loosed.

“Is this what you want, Eddie? I can take the pants off too.” Oswald whispered between soft, needy moans.

“T-take them off.” Edward's voice was low as he stared.

The hallucination was quick to obey, pants pooling at his ankles before disappearing entirely. Edward's head was fuzzy but somehow the vision remained in perfect clarity, scooting back to lay on the table fully. In this position, Edward could truly drink in the sight of him. His skin was so smooth and pale it was almost _bright_. The wound continued to weep, and nestled between Oswald's hip, his cock rested against his belly, leaking precum. If Edward wasn't so aroused he might be tempted to make some analogy about the juxtaposition of life and death taking place.

“You've imagined this so many times, haven't you Eddie? What it would be like if he was like this with you – all wound up and needy.” Oswald purred, pulling his legs up, feet resting against the edge of the table.

“Y-yes.” Edward admitted, unbuckling his pants with trembling hands.

“What it would be like if you were on top of him – inside of him? You know he was a virgin – he would have let you take that from him if you'd wanted to.” The hallucination egged him on softly as he spread his legs, revealing himself to Edward entirely.

“Shut up.” Edward growled; he didn't need to hear about things like that. It was too late to go back now, but his imagination was vivid enough to make it feel right.

“Oh, we both know you don't want me to stop.” Oswald breathed out. Edward felt himself being beckoned in, the sight of him too inviting to ignore as he shoved his slacks and underwear down around his thighs, taking his cock in hand.

“You always wondered late at night what he sounded like. If he moaned or if he screamed, or if he just whimpered as he came undone while you were buried deep inside.” Oswald continued.

Edward groaned, long fingers stroking slowly over the length of his cock as he closed the distance between them once again. The strength of his hallucination was so great that he could almost _feel_ the heat pouring over the imaginary form as he lined himself up to the waiting hole he had craved to feel in secret for far too long. Forming a tight 'o' with his thumb and index finger, he could almost pretend it was him he was pushing into.

“Would he – oh! Would he beg for you to go faster, harder – would he demand it? Would he cling to you while you pounded into him? God, just imagine what you missed out on – how hot, how _tight_ he would have been, how perfectly you would have fit inside him!” The hallucination egged him on, phantom legs wrapping around his waist as Edward used his palms as a replacement for the sensations he craved, curled almost painfully tight around his length.

“Would he tell you how good you feel, how thick your cock is?” Oswald continued, voice taking on a breathy quality as Edward's hips began to rock. The hallucination responded in kind, head falling back to expose that beautiful throat that he had often admired before everything went wrong.

“Would he have lost that front of control he always put up? Would he let you slam him so hard that he would feel you the next three days?” Oswald moaned out, body rocking as Ed thrust his hips harder, desperate to feel something other than the unending pain the last weeks had brought.

“W-would he have been so lost in sensation that he wouldn't even have to be touched to come? Moaning in your ear, _oh, God, Eddie, it feels so good_!” The last bit was actually whimpered against his ear as Edward leaned down, hips rolling as he worked himself over.

“Oswald – _fuck_!” Edward groaned out.

“More, Eddie, please! I want it! Come inside me... Make me yours.”

Edward closed his eyes tight, Oswald's voice ringing in his ears. He could almost, _almost_ feel thin limbs wrapped tight around him. He could feel their sweat slicked bodies sliding back and forth as Ed pounded him against the table so hard that its legs scraped up the floor as the force of his movements pushed it out of place. The all-encompassing heat pulsing around his cock as Oswald came before him, between them, propelling him into his own release.

For a few moments Edward kept his eyes closed, desperate to hold on to the fantasy that was so vivid that he could practically smell the sex in the air. His body tingled still from the force of his orgasm, and he slid to his knees, head falling forward to rest against the edge of the table. He wasn't willing to let go yet, not when Oswald was everywhere he looked. The waves of pleasure wore down into the cold realization that when he opened his eyes, Oswald would be gone.

Reaching into his coat pocket with come covered fingers, Edward opened the little box he kept there. Another pill was popped into his mouth, ingested with ease. He wasn't ready to let go. He didn't know if he ever would be. As he opened his eyes and stared at the floor, he heard a soft, painfully repetitive dripping coming from behind him. It was a noise that had grown comforting.

“You're a disgrace.” The hallucination snapped.

“I know.” Edward whispered with a smile.

At least this way he wouldn't have to be alone.

 

 


End file.
